


left to his own devices

by leiascully



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, Lighthouses, Mountains, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos enters the house that does not exist.  For science.</p>
            </blockquote>





	left to his own devices

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Spoilers for 30-49.  
> A/N: I love Carlos when he's being scientific.  
> Disclaimer: _Welcome to Night Vale_ and all related characters are the property of Joseph Fink, Jeffrey Cranor, and Commonplace Books. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Outside the house that does not exist (but should), the scientists shuffle their feet. One of them must go through the door. And yet, at the crucial moment, statistically speaking, an insignificant number of scientists are stepping up to the threshold.

"I will go," Carlos says suddenly. "I am a scientist and you are my team. I am in control; therefore, I should be the control." He pauses. "We have all seen strange things since we came to Night Vale. Strange things have happened around us, and to us. We have seen the lights above the Arby's, and though we do not fully understand, we hope that in time, the scientifically interesting community of Night Vale will be understood." 

A yellow helicopter hums through the air. It passes in front of the sun and Carlos cannot see it anymore. He can hear it, though, thrumming and humming. He thinks that it is coming closer. He knows that he does not have the time to prove that it is coming closer. Carlos dislikes operating from incomplete data, as all scientists do. All he can do is leave his team with all he knows. 

"I am not from Night Vale," Carlos reminds his scientists. "We are not from Night Vale. We came to observe objectively, as much as it was possible. We have not yet determined why so many scientifically interesting things happen here, or whether the residents of Night Vale have some protections that would also be scientifically interesting. We have made our homes here, but we are not from Night Vale. I do not know what will happen when I walk into the house, but a scientist must do science. That's the first thing a scientist does."

He pauses again, for longer this time. The helicopter sounds louder. It sounds like more than one helicopter. There are no data to support this hypothesis; all, or both, or whatever potential number of yellow helicopters are blotted out against the intensely bright sunlight. Carlos puts his hand on the knob of the door of the house that (against all probability) does not exist. The danger meter in his lab coat pocket beeps.

"I will see you soon," Carlos says. "Or not as soon. The future cannot be known until it has happened." The scientists bunch and shift, edging down the sidewalk. They are loyal. They are also cautious. 

"Take notes," Carlos says finally, and enters the house.

It is cool inside the house, and darker, much cooler and darker than a house in the desert might otherwise be. Carlos thinks of New England twilights: there is dim chill, and still air, and pictures of lighthouses, or, more specifically, photographs of lighthouses. The lighthouses are standing in fields, he notices. He jots down a few notes about the dimensions of each photograph. The house has no windows. There are photographs of windows here and there. Carlos records the details of those also. 

The house is silent, aside from the sounds that Carlos himself makes: breathing, footsteps, the gurgle of a stomach that has realized he left his last granola bar in the pocket of his Thursday lab coat. It is (unquantifiably) eerie. It makes him (unquantifiably) nervous. No, not nervous. Anxious. Or perhaps uneasy. Yes, it makes him uneasy. He walks back to the door, although he knows it will not open when he turns the knob. 

He turns the knob.

The door does not open. It isn't that the knob sticks, or the bolt doesn't catch, or that the door is wedged into its frame. It is more like his hand is immaterial, his exertion non-existent. Science says that energy cannot just disappear, and yet, he has no effect on the door no matter how he tries to open it. Carlos releases the knob.

It is an uneasy feeling to understand that your actions don't matter. 

He walks through the house. There are other rooms, other photographs. The house seems larger than he would have expected from the outside, but then again, the house does not exist. Eventually, there is another door. Carlos puts his hand to it without much hope (but with some hope - he always listens to Cecil's radio show, he knows that Dana escaped, and perhaps John Peters, the farmer, as well).

The knob turns. Outside is a desert. Carlos steps through the door.

Outside the door is a mountain. On top of the mountain is a lighthouse. It seems as good a destination as any. Carlos is not uneasy about the existence of mountains.

It takes a surprisingly short amount of time to reach the mountain. It seemed so far away when he began walking, but after only an hour (or to be precise, 62.4 minutes), the sand is firming into rock underfoot. Carlos checks his watch, and his notes, and his danger meter, and then he shrugs. He is in a desert otherworld. It is possible that the rules of physics that Night Vale bends are even more acutely warped here. For instance, there is a bright light behind him that seems to be growing brighter, although his watch says it should be evening. Strange. 

He reaches for the handle of the lighthouse door. It opens. Carlos enters the lighthouse and pauses. There are three people at a small table, or at least, three entities. There is a deck of cards. Those are the facts. Evidence suggests that the entities are playing a game of some kinds. Carlos is not immediately certain as to the rules of the game, or the stakes.

"Took you long enough," Old Woman Josie says in Spanish. There is someone beside her. Carlos cannot specifically say whether the someone is a person or not. He has lived in Night Vale long enough to look askance at Josie's companions.

"Everyone arrives at the right time," Dana tells her from across the table, playing a card. "Draw two."

"Reverse," Josie says promptly, slapping down another card. 

"Maybe we should go," says the being. "Hi, you must be Carlos. I'm Erika. With a K."

"Yes," Carlos says. "That makes sense. That is to say, the data point of your existence fits into an existing set."

All three look at him.

"Nice to meet you," Carlos says. 

"Scientists," Josie says with affectionate derision. She peers at Carlos. "Do you like the opera?"

"I've never been," Carlos says. "But, as a scientist, I am open to new experiences."

Josie snorts. "He'll do."

"Do for what, exactly?" Carlos asks. "It's just that a scientist is precise."

"The revolution," Dana tells him. "Carlos, we need your help. There's a light. We don't know what it is and we can't stop it, but it's dangerous."

Carlos, by reflex, checks his danger meter. It is blinking red, red, red. The readings are off the charts.

"I came to Night Vale to do research," he says. "I don't know how to fight this battle."

"Science can save the world," Dana says gently. "It has before."

"It's the only way you can help Cecil," Josie tells him. "He'll never surrender if he thinks you're in trouble." She shuffles her hand of cards thoughtfully, staring at him over her glasses. 

"Carlos?" Erika asks, as if his name contains all the questions that need to be answered.

"Yes," Carlos says, though his heart pounds red, red, red. "Yes, I will. For personal reasons. For Night Vale. Yes."

The light on top of the lighthouse is blinking too, red, red, red across the desert otherworld, weaker and weaker against the light that spills over the horizon. Time draws in a deep breath and waits to exhale. Old Woman Josie pats Carlos on the shoulder.

"Welcome to Night Vale," she tells him.


End file.
